


To Breathe Is To Burn

by balenciyaga



Series: Concept Remixes [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Burnish (Promare), Communities of Choice, Concussions, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, discussion of trauma, promare AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24195484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balenciyaga/pseuds/balenciyaga
Summary: Jaehyun doesn’t know what’s happening but there’s nothing normal about any of this. It takes him two tries and some maneuvering to get the man up with him, bracing himself when the man starts thrashing around in his arms with more fervor than before.The bandage that was hastily applied is fully dislodged now, pooling around the man’s underarm and fully off the man’s shoulder, lost in the folds of the torn fabric of his jacket. Jaehyun's fingers skirt over the slick skin and the hair along his arms and the back of his neck prickle when he feels the frozen, jagged edges of a freeze bullet wound.Fuck.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong, Kim Jungwoo/Nakamoto Yuta
Series: Concept Remixes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752484
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	To Breathe Is To Burn

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello! I had to post this asap and unbeta'ed bc once I got started it wouldn't let me go. 
> 
> this is like a remix of the promare universe pls pls pls go watch it, or listen to the ost it's all glorious 
> 
> chapter warnings: non-graphic mentions of blood, gunshot wound, cauterization

“Report,” Jaehyun says, taking in the blood, sweat, and grime smeared over the face of their new guest with thinly veiled curiosity.

What used to be a nice jacket is barely hanging on his body, ripped at the shoulder where white bandages gleam in the dim light of the abandoned office. The man doesn’t so much as twitch at the noise, simply kneeling with his hands resting limply in his lap and his body half-falling over. There’s a faint tremble visible in the line of his shoulder, and the shuddering pants that fall from his slack lips and the slack angle of his jaw.

It’s obvious that Yuta did basic field repairs on him on the way here, but Jaehyun won’t let an unknown, no matter how wounded, come with them until he knows exactly who and what their intentions are.

“We found him by an abandoned arcade, surrounded by bodies. It was morbid as fuck,” Yuta replies, cutting a look down to at kneeling man before staring back at Jaehyun with those sharp, dark eyes of his. “There were around six or seven of them laid out, all dead. We caught him as he was trying to put down the last one before he turned and ran.”

Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow at that. “He ran? Was he this fucked up too?”

Yuta nods, sweeping out of his face the bright silver of his hair darkened to a lavender toned steel grey from the rain. “Didn’t get far, Mark caught up to him easily. He didn’t put up a fight either once we had him down."

Jaehyun bobs his head in understanding, the pieces lining up nicely in his head.

“An execution order, probably from the inside, discreet and quick. The extra men were just a precaution, but for what?” Jaehyun concludes, not looking to catch Yuta’s nod.

“That what I figured. Who and why? We don’t know. The bodies were unmarked, but they were wearing standard night gear, protective armor, and were on motorcycles that were all black, no plates, and nondescript." 

Professionals then, but still unknown. Troublesome. It might be suspect as hell that a clandestine execution order was set to happen at the same time two of the Mad Burnish’s lieutenants were working within a two-mile radius of each other, but Jaehyun doesn’t want to find out what it means while cornered in an abandoned office building.

“When did he get shot?” Jaehyun asks in surprise, peering closer at the blood starting to stain through the still clean bandages.

Yuta scoffs, giving Jaehyun a flat stare. “Fuck if I know.”

“Just making sure,” Jaehyun replies lightly, but the little levity darkens into something serious when Jaehyun notices the man still hasn't reacted to anything they've said so far. For someone who's conscious, there's a startling lack of activity happening. He could still be sedated, but somehow, that doesn't feel quite right. 

“Did you also manage to get his name before you brought him here?” he asks, watching as the bandages shift loose with every trembling rise and fall of the man’s chest. Yuta is excellent at many things, but first aid is not one of them.

Yuta shakes his head in the negative, giving the man an unkind nudge with the toe of his boots. The man barely reacts, still panting softly, but otherwise stays kneeling and unmoving.

“Yah,” Yuta snaps at the man, cuffing him upside the head harshly when he doesn’t reply. “Speak up,” he growls, gripping the back of his head tightly to pull his face up, exposing the long, long line of his neck and the fingerprints purpling on his skin.

There’s only the sound of breathing getting progressively more labored for a moment, then it evens out into something steadier. By no means normal, but not strained or panicked. There's definitely some kind of sedation happening because there's no way someone who got shot in the collarbone would be this fucking out of it sober. Pain can make you feel all kinds of things and can take away the ability to feel others. This is more than just pain. 

“Wait,” Jaehyun says, lifting a hand sharply. Yuta lets go with a frown, and the man’s head lolls to one side weakly. Yuta gives him a pointed look through his silver fringe but takes a step back easily, giving Jaehyun space to approach and squat in front of him.

“I know you can hear me,” Jaehyun coaxes gently, carefully pushing back the man's choppy black bangs out of his face. He’s struck, momentarily, by the unique handsomeness of this man, even underneath all the grime. He doesn't have time to linger though.

“C’mon, just tell me what happened. Or you could tell me your name, hmm?” Jaehyun continues softly, maintaining a careful but pointed hold on the man’s jaw with the tips of his fingers to keep his head from moving. The man blinks rapidly, sluggishly shifting his head away from Jaehyun’s grip but not quite managing to move. His blank honey-colored gaze swivels between the nothingness above Jaehyun’s left shoulder and the general area where his face is. His pupils dilate unevenly when Jaehyun looks closer.

A concussion too.

The man’s eyes catch on something though, as they roll over Jaehyun’s face – the demon mask tattooed over his throat, covering his Adam’s apple and the barest tops of his collar bones. They linger on the black, swirling ink patterning his skin, following the curls and curves, before they widen in surprise. And fear.

The man tries to jolt with a muffled whine, jerking frantically, but he’s caught in the steel-like grip of Jaehyun’s fingers around his chin.

“Ah, don’t do that,” Jaehyun mutters dispassionately, marginally relaxing his grip so the man doesn’t dislodge his own jaw trying to get away. All it does is agitate the man more as some lucidity starts returning to him.

Jaehyun pushes past the tiny spark of pity in his chest at the wounded noises pouring out of the man, now genuinely distressed and trapped with nowhere to go and in no state to be trying to escape, and instead focuses on easing the man’s fear somehow. 

“Hey, listen, shh stop struggling, just listen,” Jaehyun says, reaching down to take the man's limp hands in his before he’s cut off by a loud banging sounding off in the distance. Yuta snaps his head in the direction, visibly tense as he tracks the noise. They don’t hear the noise again, but they already know the location is compromised.

Yuta moves around him like liquid, gathering their things spread around the small room, pressing a hand to his in-ear as he contacts Mark waiting out back, letting him know they’re about to head out. They only have about five minutes to get out of here without getting caught or worse. 

Jaehyun feels some of his patience wither away, but exhales through it. Jaehyun lets the man's jaw go. The man’s whimpers cut off abruptly, and Jaehyun sees the man struggling to keep his watery eyes still and focused.

“Stop struggling, and just tell me your name,” Jaehyun whispers quietly, not harsh but still serious, and the man’s eyes well up with tears – _tears_ for fuck’s sake.

“Joh-” the man gasps out, distorted by the grip around his mouth. Jaehyun immediately releases the man’s face and shuffles closer, making sure to stay in the man’s line of sight, however wobbly it might be. They only have four minutes now. 

“Yeah?” Jaehyun hisses out.

The man gasps out and suddenly pitches forward, clipping Jaehyun as he goes down. Jaehyun bites back a vicious curse when he feels pain bloom along his mouth and nose where the man clipped him with his forehead as he went down.

“Joh-n-ny,” the man stutters out, panting heavily and shaking like he’s just run a marathon, trembling – shivering – into Jaehyun’s chest. Jaehyun flinches in surprise and then catches the faint scent of something chemically sharp. It’s distinct enough that in all his years of being around fires and other Burnish, that he can pick it out with an otherwise desensitized nose.

“P-please,” the man gasps out wetly, and Jaehyun feels something warm and wet splatter against his chest, “m-m-make it s-s-s-top _make it stop please_!” he shouts then, his voice rising in a fever pitch, and he starts to twist and buck in Jaehyun’s arms like he’s possessed.

Jaehyun doesn’t know what’s happening but there’s nothing normal about any of this. It takes him two tries and some maneuvering to get the man up with him, bracing himself when the man starts thrashing around in his arms with more fervor than before. Jaehyun’s hands slide around the man’s chest as he tries to drag the man towards the back exit where Yuta is already waiting, eyes positively blazing, when he feels something slick and wet coating his left hand.

The bandage that was hastily applied is fully dislodged now, pooling around the man’s underarm and fully off the man’s shoulder, lost in the folds of the torn fabric of his jacket. Jaehyun fingers skirt over the slick skin and his hair along his arms and the back of his neck prickle when he feels jagged the frozen, jagged edges of a freeze bullet wound. 

Fuck. 

“Yuta! Fuck, he’s one of us, he’s a Burnish,” Jaehyun calls out, turning his head as best he can without falling over with the massive deadweight threatening to take him down. "They shot him with a fucking freeze bullet, he's already starting to freeze from the inside out!”

“Stay close, and let’s fucking move,” Yuta replies sharply, turning on his heel to push through the back exit and pick his way down the four flights of stairs that lead to the side entrance of the building.

Jaehyun tugs on the fire inside of him, molding and hardening the flames into a modified version of his armor around him. He immediately feels less exposed and vulnerable, but most all, strong enough to carry the man safely. He’s careful not to clip the man’s head or feet on any corners as he sprints down the stairs, catching up to Yuta already in his own armor at the mouth of the alley where Mark is waiting for them patiently.

Mark’s already transformed, safely protected by his armor, but still shuffles nervously as he sees Jaehyun approach with the cargo in his arms.

“Who’s that?” he asks curiously, but Yuta cuts off that discussion with a wave of a wickedly clawed hand.

“He’s one of us, and that’s all that matters. We need to go,” he says shortly, constructing a monstrous bike out of nothing but flames and heat.

“Hold him for me,” Jaehyun asks Mark once he’s close enough, shaking out his arms from the phantom tingle of having a human being thrash and shiver in his arms.

Mark takes the man in his arms, cradling him awkwardly as Jaehyun adjusts his armor and lets more of his fire trickle out to craft something more comfortable for two people. It’s not as flashy as the ride he prefers when they raid the City, but this one is much faster.

He carefully but quickly carves out a space to put the man in, bracketed by his legs in the front where he can see him. Yuta revs his bike twice, and Jaehyun loses his cool.

“Don’t fucking rush me, I don’t want him to die on the way back,” Jaehyun grits out, and Yuta throws his hands up in surrender, simmering down into something more manageable. He’s always the more emotional one out of the three of them when they go on patrols together, but rarely does Jaehyun blow up like that. This whole situation has thrown them all off-kilter.

“You got this,” Mark quietly cheers for him as he hands over the man – Johnny – and slips into his own three-wheeler. He breathes slowly, dabbing away the blood seeping out of the open wound with a corner of the man’s jacket and focuses his energy on heating up the tip of his claw enough to cauterize the wound.

Johnny’s too spent to do much but tremble uncontrollably and pass out with a cut off shriek when the orange-black flame closes the wound on his chest. Jaehyun silently whispers an apology as he adjusts the tattered remains over his bared chest. Seatbelts are useless when your ride is made of hardened black fire and so are you, but Jaehyun doesn’t even think about risking it, taking care to wrap the flames around Johnny’s shoulders and chest enough to secure him for the fast ride back to the Neo City.

Jaehyun hopes Johnny doesn’t wake up and start screaming, but he also hopes he doesn’t die a slow, painfully cold death in his arms on the way. They peel out of the alley in seconds, keeping the rev of their engines as low as they can as they round the corner.

The CDF goons were too far away to even see by the time they left, but he’s holding out that they weren’t spotted on the way out.

They pass countless empty streets as they weave their way through the mostly abandoned neighborhood. Trash sits accumulated along the gutters, and the buildings once full of all kinds of people sit empty and haunted in their overgrown patches of land.

Jaehyun keeps his eyes ahead, scouring the streets for any sign of trouble as they make quick progress through the neighborhood.

A minute later his hopes are dashed. “We’re being followed,” Mark calls out from the back of their narrow pincer formation, and Jaehyun swallows down a curse. No point in getting heated now when everything is still so critical. They just have to keep steady and get out fast.

“We can outride them easily,” Yuta replies, and Jaehyun can almost hear the dangerously sharp smile in his voice. Jaehyun scoffs but doesn’t disagree, increasing his speed. They _could_ if they wanted to. But they have to be careful not to finish killing an already badly injured Burnish, so they won't engage. 

“We won’t engage if they don’t,” Jaehyun says back, keeping his voice even and steady. “We’ve got more important things to do right now and getting kicking ass isn’t one of them. That goes for you specifically, Yuta.”

Yuta revvs his bike as he pulls up as close to Jaehyun as they can get in the narrow streets with three of them in their rides. “I’m older than you, you little twerp. I let you have that one back there because you were handling delicate cargo, but don’t get too comfy.”

The words aren't nice, but they're not sharp enough to seriously cut. Yuta’s been with them for years, and they’re all used to Work Yuta. Everyone gets prickly when they’re in the City that’s harmed them more than they can even say. 

“Yeah, whatever. We stick to the plan and get the fuck out of this trash City,” Jaehyun waves him off, turning his attention back towards the mental map of the neighborhood he’s got. Yuta lingers by his side, giving him that long, dragged-out look that's supposed to make people who are scared of him even more uncomfortable. Thankfully, Jaehyun has zero problem - and plenty of experience - ignoring someone until they fuck off. Yuta’s theatrics bounce right off him.

"You're lucky I like you, twerp," Yuta says wryly, but hangs back to join Mark taking up the rear. 

They’re almost through the other side, so close to crossing out over the line that straddles the end of the neighborhood and the beginning of the Outer Desert. Jaehyun can see it in his mind's eye, the barbed wire that they’ll cut through like a hot knife through butter, and the rolling expanse of open land stretching out for miles.

But maybe he gets caught up in it all. Maybe he’s already off-balance from the whole mission so he doesn't see it until they're too close to turn back, but as soon as he leads them towards the decrepit toll now blocked off with barbed fencing, he spots four fucking men, dressed in black with nondescript everything, pointing their weapons right at them.

Mark makes a strangled noise and Yuta well and truly curses before he breaks formation and speeds by him.

Jaehyun doesn’t see so much as he feels the heat off Yuta’s bike barrelling right at the men. There’s still enough time and distance between them and the fence to watch Yuta rip through them with a level of detachedness that he doesn’t show often.

For all Yuta is emotional, brash, and rough around the edges, he’s a well-loved person in their community, and part of Taeyong’s inner circle for a reason. He doesn’t go out of his way to be rude to anyone he doesn’t know and is in fact one of the politest members of their little group, barring Doyoung who’s just a little awkward and stilted with strangers. It’s both visceral and almost humbling, in a way, watching Yuta mow them down with four strategic blasts of red-gold fire and not a second glance back.

Mark is deathly silent beside him, pulling up to adjust formation like protocol dictates, gripping the handlebars of his three-wheeler hard enough to make little yellow sparks of fire burst between his fingers.

The bodies burn up so hot and fast, they only leave behind a smattering of ash and the bikes they brought with them, abandoned on the side of the toll booth.

Jaehyun doesn’t look back again, but he knows, he knows that Mark looked.

Yuta stays ahead of them, taking point and not letting up until they make it two-thirds of the way there, slowing down until he’s gliding in line with them, taking up Jaehyun’s left side.

They don’t speak for a while, the air heavy and tense between them as they eat up the miles of open desert, the moon hidden behind the sparse clouds dotting the night sky. They're approaching the settlement they call home, the lights twinkling in the night like stars on the ground. 

“What was that back there?” Mark whispers, his voice thick in the back of his throat.

Jaehyun sighs, slumping his shoulders as he releases the death grip on his own handlebars and adjusts his speed.

“He did what needed to be done,” Jaehyun replies, feeling entirely wrung out. It’s not nearly enough, but Jaehyun isn’t a mediator and he won’t start trying to be one now. Mark doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride back to Neo City, and Yuta doesn’t offer up anything either, letting the silence fill up the space between the three of them until it suffuses everything.

** 


End file.
